Simply Observation
by 42Saloni
Summary: Being sent to a camp for troubled youths was certainly not something Alex had wished for. Especially if a supposedly easy and not life-threatening mission to simply train his observation skills, turns out to not only test his survival-skills but also their limit. May contain slash later on.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Alex Rider or anything included in the Alex-Rider-series. All characters and institutions from the books belong to Anthony Horowitz

**Chapter 1  
**

The desk seemed to be as symmetrical and accurately arranged as always, the whole room pointing to Blunt, who, with a minimal gesture, pointed to the seat in front of Alex.

By now, Alex understood that it had nothing to do with politeness or being comfortable. The whole room was constructed for a distant atmosphere and the seat in front of the desk was simply a way to make sure, none of the agents would be on eye level with Blunt, seated in the monstrous chair as center of the room.

Knowing this should have made it less intimidating, but Alex still felt himself being reduced to a nervous teenager, while Blunt didn't look at him, instead focused on the papers on his desk and a painful silence filled the room.

"Observation" Blunt didn't look up right away, but a moment later transfixed his gaze onto Alex.

"is key factor to successfully finishing a mission..."

Alex knew the drill. Blunt would, as politically correct as possible, order him to kill.

As if he'd never witnessed how agents killed, how blood and dirt had nothing to do with the clean and businesslike windows, architecture and paperwork.

"We are, of course, aware that you have not received the required basic training, and we think it is time for you, to improve your knowledge for you to not having to depend on.." Blunt narrowed his eyes "...mere luck. This will be of course in your very own interest. Luck will not always be on your side, Alex, always be aware of that."

Being thankful was certainly not something Blunt had ever heard of.

"I won't do it" his voice was as steady as he had intended it to be, but not as sharp.

Blunts eyes seemed to pierce trough his skull.

"Very well. Disrespect is certainly something you will need in this particular case, albeit it might be necessary to display a slightly less childish attitude."

Alex felt stunned for a moment.

"Why would I help you?"

"Please keep in mind Alex, that it is not you who is in control."

"Neither are you."

"I'm sure you know otherwise...as I was saying..." he continued without a change in voice "Observation. Also, you will, as Mrs. Jones has recently informed me to be a necessity, be able to form closer relationships with peers. Hopefully you will be able to continue your series of success."

Alex could hear Mrs. Jones approaching and wasn't surprised to feel a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Now, for the details, please follow me."

"It is nice to see you again, Alex." She said as they walked out of the office, but he couldn't really decide whether she was trying to compliment him into cooperating or if she was being honest.

"We already decided on an alias, and we kept it simple. Your name will be Alec West, age 17." She handed him a pile of papers, not slowing down, while striding down the narrow corridor and Alex felt the cameras, installed in the ceiling following them like little red eyes. Before he really knew how it happened, they had changed direction and soon stood in front of the exit

Mrs. Jones abruptly came to a halt, her stony features hardening even more.

"There is a car waiting in front of the bank's entrance. They will know it is you. The information you received, has to be memorized by the time you arrive, which will be approximately four hours from now. " She seemed to be content with her explanation, but nodded with some kind of grim apprehension.

" Alex," she suddenly started again "sometimes it's not guns that do the most damage, but our very own mind. Please remember this."

And when Alex exited the building without any kind of confirmation that he would follow her advice, he looked at the papers in his hand.

"**Alec West, 17, breaking and entering" **

Wonderful.

The drive was uneventful, the driver, a bulky man with headset, looked suspiciously like a bodyguard.

But Alex supposed it would be compatible with his cover:

Alec West, at the tender age of 17 was as arrogant and ignorant as his Daddy's money allowed him to be. Or at least it should seem that way at first.

After breaking into a 78-year old widower's house with three of his friends, Eric, John and Tony, (they all came with a description), Alec went back into the house by himself, after he noticed that his cellphone had fallen out of his pocket. The old man, Robert Mayer, thin, already weakened by his heart condition, woke up from the noise and entered the living room (white walls, family pictures, a flat-screen they had destroyed).

Alex knew where this was going, but still was surprised : Simple was an understatement.

Mr. Mayer, seeing a dark figure standing in the living room, threatened to call the police, things suddenly turned serious, as Alec lashed out and hit the man in the stomach. Mayer, tough weak, still managed to crawl over to the closet, where he kept his gun.

Alec ended up locked into a small spare room, but was able to talk the man out of calling the police by bribing him with money. Money his rich father would provide.

After a night of sleeping on the floor, his father's secretary, Linda, payed the money and drove him home.

His father, Raymond West, Alex only skimmed briefly trough the list of details, was more than wealthy, but also more than not amused. Being a single father to a teenager who didn't know his boundaries, he decided to finally take action and send his son to a camp for troubled youths.

Alec himself would be self-important and superficial, but underneath the surface a typical little boy, who had lived through his childhood without a mother, and a father who was constantly away. Lonely and seeking attention, falling into the wrong kind of crowd and finally turning to crime.

Alex knew that type of personality, had had the chance to act as a spoiled, emotionally crippled rich kid, but he didn't have to like it.

Missions like this always felt like a parade of people with lives that he could have lived.. They were surrounding him with their everyday problems, their little fights, their arguments he would be glad to have.

He felt like living in a glass-cage, able to see everything clearly, but still inside his own world.

It was hard to get people involved in his life, and it was hard to get involved with the "normal". Those two worlds just didn't mix and the more clearly he could see them, the nearer they were, the more it felt like he was pressed against one side of his cage, feeling the warmth of the outer world seeping through the glass, but still not able to go one step beyond this tiny contact.

It was frustrating.

And the agency knew it.

The camp was much like Alex had seen on the sketches in his files.

A line of small huts, painted in a dark red color that was peeling off the rough wood and left dark patches. They had painted the window frames in a now withered white, in an attempt to make it look more professional. In combination with the morning fog, that quietly hovered above the grass, it looked much like a forgotten summer camp that had been left abandoned, if it hadn't been for the cameras. Alex counted twelve, one for every door he saw.

The driver shut the door firmly behind him, the sound seemed louder than usual and the noise of the drivers steps on the fine gravel echoed.

It was still early, there was probably no one awake and the morning dew seeped trough his expensive shoes.

Alex waited until the driver had passed him with a small nod, grabbed the suitcase they had provided for him and then slowly followed, focusing on the broad back in front of him, carefully not lifting his feet to look like the reluctant teenager he had to be, hands in his pockets.

Framed by the huts, the gravel path led to a bigger building, also with a wood paneling but Alex guessed that it had a cellar or something similar, because it looked more solid than the little wood-cabins.

The driver pounded against the door as if he had a search warrant and it didn't take long until a fully clothed man appeared in the doorway .

He was a bit chubby, shorter than Alex, brown eyes, no glasses. His brown hair thinned out on some parts of his head and he looked genuinely confused which made it hard for Alex to guess his age. A neutral expression was easier to read.

"Ah, welcome...you..." He seemed to think for a moment, but eventually some kind of understanding dawned on his face. ".. you must be Alec. We didn't think you would arrive so early, or else there would have been someone to greet you and help with the luggage." He grinned and looked at the driver who grunted a short affirmation and turned to leave which left the man before Alex at a bit of a loss.

"Not very communicative, is he?" he whispered conspicuously and offered his hand to Alex.

"I'm Mr. Brown, one of the team leaders, nice to meet you, Alec" From where he stood he could see the sporadically furnished room behind Brown. All the leaders probably had a room in the big building. If he counted one or two spare rooms, and considering that they where the same size as Mr. Brown's, there would be about 12 Persons living in the building.. He guessed that the other doors would be on the backside of the house, because the door in Brown's room probably led to the bathroom.

"I don't want to be here and I don't need to be. I'm not going to play funny little games or try to "talk about my problems". So don't act all friendly." He ignored the hand and raised his eyebrows.

Brown seemed to flush, not with rage but embarrassment and let out a nervous giggle.

" That's really okay Alec, but I'm sure you will soon accept, that with a little help, life is a lot easier. You won't be forced to join group activity or the psychological care sessions, but it is something that could help you with your life and your problems."

Alex raised his eyebrows and snorted.

"Just show me where I can sleep and don't talk to me."

"Oh I'm sure you could solve problems yourself, but with help..." Alex really started to pity this man "Are you deaf? " he snapped and turned in the direction of the huts. "I have to sleep in one of those things?" Brown winced and nodded but didn't comment, while Alex waited, with a pointed gaze at his bags, until Brown picked them up.

Alex even might have missed the tall figure, leaning against one of the cabins at the far end of the camp, looking at them. The light of the morning sun covered the person with the shadow of the next cabin, but he thought he could make at a broad smirk, as they went to his cabin and accommodation for the next few weeks to come.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I still don't own Alex Rider, the charakters or the book, and I never will.

**Chapter**

The blond boy on the right bed looked up from the book in his lap and greeted them with a small nod.

"I have to share this room?" Alex silently congratulated himself on how incredulous he sounded, because the cabin looked surprisingly comfortable and bigger than he had imagined from the outside:

A few shelves and two solid wooden beds, two windows, a closet and a sink with a mirror above. Rustic but a lot more comfortable than he was used to.

"Well..." Again, Brown looked ready to flee. "It is part of getting to know each..." "By taking my privacy? I have a right for privacy!" Alex wondered if he was laying it on a bit too thick.

"Actually you don't. If your father signed the contract, the supervisors are authorized to set certain rules and guidelines, so you'd do well by treating Mr. Brown like a supervisor and not your personal slave." mumbled the other boy, still bent over his book.

"And you're here for what? Brown-nosing? Stay the fuck out of this!" Brown started to look really uncomfortable. The book landed on the pillow and Alex had to admit that he was surprised how tall the other one was. He couldn't have been much older than Alex, 18 maybe.

"Now boys...don't..."

"I'm here by choice, you are probably not," his voice was calm and steady. He didn't sound offended, but something glimmered in his eyes Alex couldn't place. Definitely not anger. Something heavier, deeper. "But whatever you did, your parents decided to send you here, and maybe this should give you some time to ...make the right choices."

It didn't fit. The guy standing in front of him looked like a surfer, long sun bleached hair, a bit stringy, athletic built, stereotypical leather bracelet around his wrist, a green bandanna and there should have been the matching smile. But the cover didn't always match the book, he had learned that all too well. He saw something different, a watery paleness, like a little kid who had been sick for a long time, very soft, very fragile. Nothing a guy would want to be called.

Alex tried to read his face without giving himself away. There it was again. Bags under his eyes, he looked tired, exhausted. Haunted.

Probably self loathing. "What choices I make is not your business and it shouldn't have been the business of my father. If you are dumb enough to send yourself here, then fine, enjoy your stay, but don't expect the same from me."

"Your business is breaking into the house of an old man and stealing things?" A smile this time. This boy saw right trough the first layer of his makeshift personality and he knew more than he was supposed to.

"Matthew" Mr. Browns stern look trough slitted eyes in his plump face matched his suddenly upright posture but certainly not his previously displayed behaviour. Said Matthew seemed to have similar thoughts, if the clear curiosity in his eyes was any indication. "Mr. Brown, it wasn't my intention to read the files, but someone must have left them on the desk in the main building and I..."

"You thought. Well, Matthew, if I remember right, thinking that you can break certain rules brought you here, didn't it?" The blood drained from Matthews face the same time Mr. Brown deflated, shoulders down again, face back to his nervous mask. "Now boys. I hope you will get on well with each other." He stumbled a bit on the doorway , hastily closed the door behind him and there was a moment of tense silence.

"What's his problem?" Matthew still stood there and looked almost hunched over, as if a physical blow had hit him right in the stomach, his left thumb kept gliding over his index finger, the nail was so short, the rosy flesh around it looked sore. For humans, stress often was relieved by a compensating action, something to distract or to calm themselves, chewing nails was the most common, what really puzzled Alex was the fact that it was only the one nail that was bitten off. It took him a moment to look back at the other boys face.

"Have you gone mute or something?"

"Just.." Alex heard the warning and something told him that even Alec shouldn't cross this line.

"It's not like you killed someone, don't be so dramatic."

"No, I didn't kill anyone." And it sounded as if he had rehearsed this sentence and was flowing off his lips without thinking about it any more.

* * *

Matthew had been silent after that, only responded when Alex spoke to him directly, otherwise was just reading his book. The history of modern law: Justice and Judgement.

_Alec_ would have made a stupid comment, _Alex _just couldn't. Whatever his new room-mate thought about, he wasn't in a very pretty place to be with his mind and maybe he was seeing himself somewhere in this seeking for answers, for what he had done and why. How other people viewed his actions, his crimes, how they judged, because after "getting used" to, after crossing a certain line, it became normal, different from the definition of norm others would have used, but a personal feeling of what had to be done.

The problem was not the action itself, but the moment you realized you weren't horrified.

You lost the connection to natural inhibitions, taught to you by society, by standards and by rules and he was already so far in breaking borders, that there was nothing holding him back from doing his worst.

Alex closed the zipper of his bag and shut his eyes. The bugs still had to be installed , at least one in this room, and he hadn't been able to get enough information yet.

* * *

There were about 16 teenagers, standing on the dusty ground with their designer-cloths, looking like they had been pulled out of their flat-screen-living-rooms or kidnapped out of their Porsche.

The dusty ground didn't sit well with them, some were already trying to get their shoes clean. Rich kids, no street material or real fighters. They probably had been bored before committing their crime.

Alex could see the groups forming, some kids already recognized as leader figures, some still undecided. Pecking order, herd instinct, humans were not that different from animals, and it made them predictable.

What puzzled him was the way they kept moving around Matthew, throwing glances at him, avoiding him, like he had some kind of barrier surrounding him and Matthew seemed relieved, looked more like a bullied kid, than an aggressor.

Alex saw him looking at him, and wasn't really sure what the seemingly unfocused gaze meant, until a shoulder bumped into him and he grabbed the person out of reflex.

It was a tall guy with dark complexion and his eyes lighter than it seemed natural, almost green, good-looking features, probably as arrogant as they got. Spanish, if Alex wasn't mistaken, but probably second generation.

"So you're the new one, right?" He didn't look like crime, more like rock-band, if his black-in-black outfit was any clue.

"Good reflexes, you'll need them! I'm Jesse."

"And I'm wondering why I need good reflexes." Jesse laughed again and tried to get his tanned arm over Alex's shoulder. Not something Alec would allow.

"Well with this room-mate of yours."

"Matthew?"

"Him. Whatever he's done, it's not pretty."

"So maybe you should stay clear of me too, and get your arm off my shoulder."

Alex could feel the arm tightening around him, and he knew the other was trying to test him.

"Should I? What ya done, huh?" Advantage of height didn't exist in reality, being smaller had just as much advantages. But not if you weren't allowed to act out. He hated not being able to defend himself, to show what he got, if only from time to time.

"STAND IN A LINE! NOW!"

"Shit." The arm slid off his shoulder and the dragging started, reluctant bodies of annoyed teens, moving against their will.

But no one seemed to protest. Alex quickly got why.

The man, who had stepped onto the dusty ground on the right side of the place, must have moved out from behind the group of trees that framed part of the open space, otherwise Alex would have never missed this mountain of a man. There was a sharpness to his features, an eagle-like gaze out of small, colorless eyes and a military-stance, that reminded him at his times with the k-Unit.

The skin was showing deep lines as a result of burning sun, someone who was out in the nature, not sitting on comfortable couches, talking about pedagogical problems .

"Let me see your faces." And the broad toothy smile of a cat that had not only eaten the bird, but kept the feathers as a souvenir.

"I don't think you're here for what you did." There was an agreeing sound from one on the boys near Alex. "You are here because you did it in the wrong place and time and for yourself. And I am not talking about getting caught. Look at you, be honest, none of you is even fit enough to do a hundred push-ups, you're barely a treat." His smile vanished "And nothing you did is wrong. It is all a matter of perspective. Let's see. You kid, what did you do?" He pointed at Jesse, who was standing besides Alex.

"Car theft. Well...I stole my fathers car."

"Why?"

"Because it was fun? I wanted to drive?"

"What if you did it, to prevent someone else from driving. Let's say a murderer. Would this justify your action?" Broad silence, either they were to baffled to respond or it was the general waiting for someone else to do it.

"Why would I steal the car if I knew he was a murderer? I'd call the police." It was Matthews steady voice, the boys next to him seemed to be a bit uneasy

"But what if..." the instructor made a short pause, as if to deepen the meaning of his following sentence. "You were the police?"

A short laughter interrupted the moment.

"What, like stealing things will get me into the police? It will get me in police custody, that's where it gets me!" Some guy shouted. More amusement, but the man didn't seem to loose his cool. "Well what if not the police, but still on the right side? Would that justify your actions? "

"You there." Now it was him. Brilliant.

"Yes."

"Would you kill someone, if you knew they would kill your family?"

Alex shook his head, this man was making him more than uncomfortable.

"So you would let this man kill your whole family? Wouldn't that be murder?"

"What if it's him who has to kill me in order to protect his children, too?"

"We've caught ourselves a smartass, everyone." The roaring laughter rumbled deep , somewhere between thunder and a nicotine-addiction. "You think you'd qualify as a murderer?" The smile was broad, but the eyes still piercingly cold.

"Drop, do 50 nicely executed push-ups. No slacking for the new guy! The rest of you look at this guy. Could have been you. Always think about this, _it could have been you_" And Alex started to count the faces that were staring down at him, some with open curiosity, some with gloating expressions. He hadn't expected the content in Matthews face.

Alex saw him mumble something, saw the lips moving and finally after thinking the movement over he knew what Matthew had said.

"I knew it. Bad actor." We'll, first personality: busted. "Now he's got it out for you, though luck." the more or less emphatic comment form Jesse, and if Alex hadn't looked him in the eyes he might have even bought it.


End file.
